


Damn His Eyes

by Riadasti



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, First Kiss, Older Man/Younger Woman, Passion, Slow Burn, series of One-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riadasti/pseuds/Riadasti
Summary: She stares into his clear gaze, wishing she could hear the thoughts so obviously swirling behind those startling blue eyes. But he always did put up walls between them.





	1. Damn His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this small one shot! I hope you enjoyed reading this fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it. Your feedback is much appreciated!
> 
> <3  
> Riadasti

DG bolts around the corner, slams smack into Glitch’s back, and ricochets backwards onto the floor.

“Ow!” They say together, DG rubbing her forehead and Glitch pressing a hand to the nape of his neck.

“You have a thick head, Deege.” He chuckles to himself and ambles down the hallway, ignorant of the hot glare she sends after him.

She stares after him, realizing he had forgotten to help her to her feet.

Her attention is suddenly drawn to an outstretched hand in front of her face. Cain is at the other end of that wide, warm hand, the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He pulls her to her feet in one fluid motion, and she is propelled towards him with the momentum. They are standing very close when she finally comes to a stop.

Instead of clearing their respective throats and taking a polite step backwards, neither one shows any sign of wanting to move.

“Don’t go, Cain.” She stares into his clear gaze, wishing she could hear the thoughts so obviously swirling behind those startling blue eyes. But he always did put up walls between them.

“What’s keeping me here, Deege?”

_Damn his eyes—I can’t tell what he’s thinking._

She is the one to move first, taking that dreaded step back to put distance between them.

“Lots of things,” she falters. “We—we need protection.”

His brows lower above eyes that rarely meet her gaze these days, but she is familiar with this look of approval as he says, “This is the safest place for you. Besides, they need me out there where the action is.”

DG can’t stem the tide of denial that sweeps over her. “But you can’t go. You just can’t.”

He shakes his head, and she knows he can see right through her arguments.

“I’ll ask Mom to raise your salary,” she continues. “I’ll ask for your own room and complete privacy whenever you want it.”

“Deege, I already have—”

“And you can use the best horses whenever you want. Oh, and the cook will be required to make anything you want at any time of the day. I’ll give you free access to any part of the castle. I’ll—”

“Come on, Kid.” He places a hand on her upper arm.

She’s really clutching at straws here. “No, you can’t go. I’ll give you—I’ll give you five kisses if you stay.”

He is visibly taken aback. His eyes widen, his mouth at first a tight, thin line—but then the corners slowly lift into a rye smile. “Five kisses, eh?”

“Yeah.” She steps forward and pecks his cheek. “That’s one.” She leans over and kisses his other cheek. “That’s two.”

“Deege,” he takes a gentle but firm hold of both her wrists, closing his eyes for a moment as though praying for some return of sanity.

But she’s having none of it.

She steals this opportunity while his eyes are still closed and gently brushes her lips against his. She hears a sharp intake of breath before his arms wrap themselves around her—and she is being soundly kissed by Wyatt Cain. By a Tin Man— _her_ Tin Man.

He draws her tightly against him, his lips meeting hers for several delightful moments before he pulls away. Her eyes open a bit sluggishly as she tries to recover from the unexpected reciprocation of his affection.

“This doesn’t mean I’m staying,” he says in a low growl, resting his forehead gently against hers.

She’s momentarily outraged. “Well, then I take all of them back!”

“Too late,” he says with a grin, and leans forward to steal another kiss.

But she’s too quick for him. She snatches his infamous hat from atop his head and takes off down the hall in a sprint.

“Not without your hat!”

DG navigated the hallways, with her Tin Man in hot pursuit. Glitch watched them disappear around a corner, and did not see either of them again for several hours. He had a suspicion that Wyatt Cain’s departure would be delayed for quite some time.


	2. Damn His Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” she said. She knew exactly what she wanted. “I want you to stay here with me.”

Something is tickling DG’s arm. She groans, unwilling to open her eyes just yet, and hugs the pillow closer. But the sensation persists just below her wrist—and now, if she listens closely, she can hear the slow rhythm of someone else breathing beside her.

Her eyes fly open, and she’s confronted with the view of Wyatt Cain lying in bed beside her. He’s without his trademark hat, even though he’s fully clothed in yesterday’s shirt and pants, but his face is so close that she can explore every detail. He’s soundly asleep, and his nose just brushes her arm where she’s hugging the pillow. His breath tickles the hairs along her skin. She is both parts confused and oddly…thrilled to see him there.

A vague memory gnaws at the back of her mind, and she chases it through the fog of a sleep-addled brain.

She can almost remember…

Something had happened yesterday. Was it a party?

The image of a silvery, gauzy dress floats through her mind’s eye. It all floods back to her in that instant.

Yesterday was a celebration for Azkadellia’s birthday—the first celebration since she was a small child. Everyone was in good spirits, even Az, who had been reclusive and quiet for the better part of six months. Glasses of champagne and wine flowed freely, and DG remembers feeling a bit of a buzz as she stared relentlessly at Cain across the room.

He was perched in his usual corner, eyes darting back and forth, with a heavy expression of focus and suspicion. Security was always tighter on special occasions, and that evening was no exception. Cain was performing his third glance around the room when he locked eyes with DG. The corner of his lips quirked upward in a smile.

Emboldened by her third glass of champagne (and by the small, unexpected smile he gave her), she made her way to him. She paused only once to partake of a paprika-topped deviled egg (her special request for the party, after much coercion with the stubborn head cook). She noticed that she was the first to try it, and hoped others would follow suit. She devoured it in two bites, swallowing around an oddly bitter taste. She made a mental note to speak to the chef about it. Perhaps he’d gotten the recipe wrong again. It was his fourth or fifth attempt at it, of course.

Cain was eyeballing the server with a wary expression, but he was instantly distracted by DG’s approach.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” She asked, shaking her half-empty glass in his direction.

He frowned. “I’m on duty, kid.”

She rolled her eyes, “But it’s a party. You should be allowed just _one evening_ of fun. Come on,” she wheedled, nudging him with her elbow.

He gave her that same smirk again before snatching a glass from a passing servant. She took another swig of her drink, trying to quell the flip-flop motion her stomach made when he smiled at her.

“What should we toast to?” Cain sighed, his eyes studying her face.

She liked the feel of his gaze on her. “Long life and happiness.” She said as she raised her glass.

He hesitated just before touching the rim of his glass to hers. “To Azkadellia, you mean?”

“Yes and no,” she felt brave enough to inch slightly closer, testing the waters, so to speak. “To Az, to Glitch, to Mom and Dad, and…to Wyatt Cain.”

He was puzzled, but he clinked their glasses together nonetheless, and they both downed the contents in a few seconds.

DG opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly the room tilted. She fell against him unexpectedly, her balance disappearing as her surroundings began to spin.

“Cain…” she said, and he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist.

Cain shouted a few commands to his right-hand man, but she could no longer make sense of the world around her. He may have been pointing towards one of the servants, and she recalled sounds of commotion behind her. She vaguely recognized that he was saying her name over and over, giving her shoulders a slight shake.

“DG, can you hear me?” One of his hands cupped her face—and had she been in a different state of mind, this would have thrilled her to the core.

“I should have been more _careful_!” He growled this last statement to himself, but she could feel his voice vibrating against her ear.

Everything around her still spun dizzyingly, but then it suddenly blurred and faded to darkness.

“I can’t see—I can’t see—” Her voice was panicked as her heart hammered a sporadic rhythm in her chest. She felt several pairs of hands on her from all angles, and it wasn’t long before she lost consciousness.

~~~

DG found herself in her bed. She tried to open her eyes, but they refused to comply. She felt as though ten tons of iron were resting on top of her. She was immobile.

“Do we know yet who this man is?” Cain was talking. At least her ears still worked. His voice sounded ragged and pinched.

“We don’t know.” It was her father, Ahamo. “It’s hard to say how he worked his way into the staff today.”

“I should have known…I had a feeling, but I didn’t—I was distracted.” Cain said. There was a hint of regret in his voice.

“You had no way of preparing for this.” It was Glitch who spoke now—Ambrose, with his fully restored brain. “I’m only glad we caught it soon enough before any damage was done. She should be able to rest now, but I’m afraid the concoction he gave her, mixed with my sedative, may stir up some disturbing dreams. Best to stay close in case she awakens.”

DG slipped into unconsciousness once more, and the voice that followed Ambrose’s was lost to her.

She remembers waking…or she thought she was awake, at least. Azkadellia was standing over her bed with a concerned expression on her perfectly symmetrical features. DG tried to speak, but Az stopped her with a restraining hand on her wrist.

“Don’t say anything, Deege. I am so sorry that this happened…I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling.” Her expression darkened suddenly. “The guilt. The knowledge that you...brought this on yourself.” Her hold tightened on DG’s wrist painfully.

DG’s heart hammered in her chest as she watched Az’s face crumble and morph into that of the witch’s.

“This is all your doing. And I just wanted to thank you,” she leaned down, pressing the twisted and distorted features closer to DG’s face. Her breath was foul, and when Az smiled, her teeth were blackened and rotting.

“You set me free again.” The sickeningly familiar laugh filled DG’s head, and she struggled under Az’s vice-like grip on her wrist.

She tried to scream, but her voice was choked by fear. She writhed and kicked and bucked against a second pair of hands—and suddenly, her eyes were open, and two strong arms were holding her down.

“Cain?” She said, automatically, clutching at the person who held her.

“I’m here, Deege. It’s alright—you’re awake now.”

She breathed deeply, trying to soothe her racing heart, and she inhaled the familiar scent of him—of leather and aftershave, and of that unique scent that was truly his own.

He must have felt that the embrace was lasting longer than propriety called for, and he pulled back. He gently wiped at a tear that had escaped down DG’s cheek. She wanted to fling herself into his arms again at that gentle touch. He must have read her intentions on his face, because he stood and seated himself in a chair beside the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, eyes downcast.

“No,” she said. She knew exactly what she wanted. “I want you to stay here with me.” She almost clapped a hand over her lips. She hadn’t meant to speak that aloud.

He gazed at her with slight confusion. “I’m not going anywhere—”

“No,” she insisted, putting a hand against the pillow beside hers. “Here.”

If she hadn’t still been so shaken by the nightmare, she would have marveled at her impertinence. But, then again, she never did follow protocol very well. She knew that she was frightened beyond her wits, still weakened by the poison, and that she wanted her Tin Man by her side.

He hesitated—appearing to war with himself for a few moments—before he removed his vest, gun belt, and boots. She watched him, unashamed at the sudden pleasure that filled her chest, and waited for him to join her. He kept a reserved distance between them and rested above the covers, his face firmly planted towards the ceiling.

And now, in the light of another morning—perhaps more than one—DG finds herself staring at her Tin Man again. He is sleeping soundly beside her. She realizes, with a start, that his arm had snaked itself around her waist. She can’t remember if she had had any other nightmares, but she quickly shoves aside the rising memory of Az’s distorted face and nuzzles closer to him. Cain breathes a heavy sigh and pulls her closer.

It’s this small motion that sends shivers down DG’s spine.

It’s true that DG and Cain had been dancing around each other (sometimes quite literally with all the balls and parties her mother decided to put on) for the past year. It was impossible to tell if he had noticed her feelings toward him, and sometimes she imagined that she caught an unguarded expression, or that a hug between friends lasted a millisecond longer than it should have. He always put up walls between them.

But this one motion, where he draws her body closer to him in his sleep, tells her that perhaps her Tin Man’s heart was beginning to soften.

DG takes advantage of these quiet moments to study him, knowing that as soon as he awoke, he would put a stop to this in the effort of retaining a sense of decorum between them ( _damn his devotion to the job_ ). She examines every scar on his face, and the way his blond lashes flutter against his cheek. Is he dreaming?

Before she can really stop herself, her hand reaches up and soothes the ever-present crease between his brows. His face softens beneath her touch, and he nestles his face against her other arm. Emboldened by this response, she draws her fingers down to gingerly touch the stubble on his chin. When this draws up a soft grunt from his throat, she moves her fingers down his neck and into his light chest hair.

“Deege,” he says softly, his eyes opening at last.

A sudden flush fills her face from her neck to the roots of her hair. She’s been caught.

But instead of berating her for this unprofessional behavior, Cain continues to stare at her with his sleepy blue eyes. His hand moves to the arm that’s hugging her pillow, and he gently rests it there. His thumb moves in soft circles against her skin. She’s afraid to say anything, afraid that any words between them would tear this moment apart and bring them firmly back to reality.

She doesn’t know who moves first—perhaps it’s simultaneous—but suddenly, she’s kissing him. At first it is tender and hesitant, just a brush of lips together, but their arms wrap around each other as if being too close together isn’t a possibility. She expects him to pull back any second with profuse apologies, to chalk it up to the trauma of the most recent events, but he doesn’t. Instead, the kiss grows more impassioned, reaching a fever pitch.

He is studying her curves with his hands. She scrapes her fingernails along the nape of his neck, and he groans against her lips. She’s lost in this world for what feels like ages—and then they’re pulled apart.

It’s another question of “who moves first,” but they’re suddenly sitting on opposite sides of the bed, back to back. His breathing is as ragged as hers.

DG stares at her feet. One hand reaches up and touches her lips, still tingling and bruised from the force of their kisses. She inhales sharply and decides now is as good a time as ever. There’s no point in being delicate about what just happened.

“I’m not sorry, Cain.”

She feels the bed shift, and he rounds the bed to stand in front of her. She stares at the toes of his boots when they come into view. DG refuses to look at him just yet.

“I’m not sorry.” She continues. “And it’s not just a result of the trauma and stress. It was real for me. If it wasn’t real for you—”

He puts a finger under her chin and lifts her face toward him. “I don’t do things by halves, kid.”

She could only nod at him, her throat tight with emotion. She didn’t know what this would mean tomorrow, or even in an hour when life caught up with them. But for now, she would revel in the warmth of his gaze and in the kiss he gave her—soft, sweet, and full of promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second installment of DG and Cain fluff. Enjoy!


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